


A Different Kind of Man

by flippyspoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, I'm so bad at angst, M/M, Maybe more like flangst lol, Steve's dickhead dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: Steve's dad is a dick. Steve realizes he and Billy are in the same place. He didn't see that coming.





	A Different Kind of Man

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Neveranygoodupthere! Aaaah I forgot about you said about Max woops. I was focussing on the angst lol. Anyway, I REALLY hope you like this!

He should’ve known that his father wasn’t through teaching him a lesson.

“I’ll give you a shot,” he’d said. “But no special treatment. You’ll be judged on your merits. Get a thorough interview just like everybody else.”

He should’ve known but he didn’t. Sometimes it seemed like everyone knew everything before he did.

“You’ll do great!” Robin said, because Robin was always encouraging. She was sitting cross legged on his bed, eating Cheetos as he tied his tie. Sometimes it still felt weird to have a girl in his room when it had nothing to do with sex, but he’d discovered a while ago that Robin was the best friend he’d ever had. He felt like maybe it was_ because _she was a girl. There was none of that competitive bullshit like there had always been with Tommy and every other guy friend he’d ever had. Sometimes that stuff was fun. Sometimes it was fucking exhausting.

He _would_ do great, he thought.

He really should have known.

“You’ll do great too!” He said to Robin, who had the script to _The Glass Menagerie_ open in her lap. “You’re not gonna forget your lines. You know this shit backwards and forwards.”

“I know, I know!” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just nervous,” she said around a Cheeto.

“I should be done with the interview around eleven,” Steve said, checking his watch. “Then I’m just covering a few hours for Keith-”

“Just _don’t_ be late to the play,” Robin said darkly. “Don’t be one of those people finding your seat in the middle, it’s so distracting.”

“I won’t be late,” Steve said. “It’s not until seven. I have all kinds of time. I’m only working for four lousy hours.”

He looked in the mirror above his dresser and took a deep breath. He’d combed his hair back because his dad hated it when his hair was “too big.” He was wearing his good suit and Robin had helped him spruce up his resume. He was applying for an entry level position. Mail room stuff. Any idiot could apply for this kind of job. 

He should’ve known better.

“You’re gonna do great!” Robin said again.

* * *

Steve knew he’d made a mistake the moment he sat down. The first clue was that he didn’t see his father anywhere. He’d expected his dad to come out and shake his hand and laugh and introduce him around.

“This is my son,” he’d say. “Let’s see if he’s got what it takes! Haha! Chip off the old block!”

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected that. But then, he didn’t really _know_ his father any more than his father knew him.

Instead he was brought in and treated like a stranger. He told himself that was fair. It wasn’t as if he _should_ be hired just because he was Roger Harrington’s son. That was only getting him the interview. Still, he’d hoped for a little...friendliness?

“Right this way,” the secretary said, smiling tightly. She looked him up and down with a blank expression as he followed her down a beige carpeted hallway. Steve’s dad was an executive for a mortgage firm in Indianapolis. The place had about as much personality as a white sock. But one year here and he’d have his life set; house in the cul-de-sac, find a nice girl, the whole shebang… Sometimes he felt as if that life he’d always counted on was fading faster and faster. Every time he got punched in the face or took a swing at a monster or got mixed up with _Russians hiding under the mall_, it felt like the world was telling him that nothing was as it seemed. That perfect life was a lie.

_Bullshit_.

But what else was he supposed to do after all?

“Is my dad around?” Steve said, and flushed, ducking his head as he followed the secretary. “Mr. Harrington, I mean? Roger Harrington?”

“He’s in a meeting.”

Steve was let into a room where he sat in a chair in front of a large and fancy desk and was told to wait. Steve eyed the gigantic IBM computer on the desk and the little desk toy that sat next to it; a bird with a little hat and big red shoes. Steve frowned at the bird and cocked his head.

What the hell was that _for_?”

The wait was _long_. The wait was so long that Steve started to think he’d made a mistake. Had he gotten the time for job interview wrong? But no, the secretary had known all about it.

Steve glanced around the office and read the nameplate on the desk: Benjamin Strauss. He wondered if his dad’s office looked like this or if it was bigger. His father had worked for the same company for about twenty years and been an executive for twelve and Steve had never been to his work outside of social occasions and Christmas parties and those never involved seeing his office.

It seemed strange to know so little about the person who raised you. But his parents had always been a little cold. 

Then again, they didn’t know he’d fought monsters or that he’d been interrogated and tortured by Soviets.

So…

Steve was staring at the little bird wearing a hat and now he poked its head and watched it dip to the surface of the desk and pop up again.

“Oh!” Steve said. “Huh.”

“Hey! How ya doin’?” The voice came from behind Steve as the office door opened and a guy about his dad’s age appeared. He was smiling tightly and carrying files under his arm. Steve started to stand up and Benjamin Strauss waved a hand and told him to stay seated as he came around his desk and sat down, heaving a breath.

The bird was still bobbing its head and Mr. Strauss gave Steve a funny look. “Oh yeah, that…”

Already he had screwed up. Apparently, he shouldn’t have touched the goddamn bird.

“I was just-”

“So you’re applying for our assistant job?” Strauss said, crossing his arms on the desk.

“Ah, yes,” Steve said. He smiled confidently. Confidence was something he felt comfortable faking even when he wasn’t feeling it, not that he always succeeded in his attempts.

He felt he used to be better at it.

“Scoops Ahoy…” Strauss had Steve’s resume in front of him and he was frowning as if he’d never looked at it before.   
Steve was starting to seriously think he’d never looked at it before.

“That’s right,” Steve said. “I-I was doing pretty well? Except um, the mall...burned down so… Or ya know. It was pretty much...demolished.”

He thought of Billy Hargrove roaring as he fought the Mind Flayer with his bare hands.

Then the Mind Flayer had killed him.

Or that’s what they’d all thought at the time already.

He’d watched _Billy Hargrove_ of all people sacrifice himself trying to save Eleven and everybody else…

Sometimes he thought a lot about that.

“Steve?” Ben was saying. 

He was still frowning.

Steve looked up and blinked. “Yeah. Sorry?”

“I was just asking what you think your best quality is?” Ben smiled warmly, or at least he created an approximation of a warm smile and folded his hands on the desk, leaning forward to look right in Steve’s eyes.

“Oh, well… I’m a really hard worker,” Steve said firmly. “I’m...I work really hard.”

And now he’d just said the same thing twice.

He cleared his throat.

“If you were to call, uh, the references there?” Steve said. “Robin Buckley? And my current supervisor at Family Video, Keith Carter? They’ll both tell you. And ah, my mother would tell you? She’s very well respected.”

He wasn’t actually sure what Keith would say about him. He had been relying on Keith to give him a solid recommendation if Steve needed it, if only because it would mean he’d be working somewhere else. But there was an equal chance Keith would screw him over. 

“What do you think your worst quality is?” Mr. Strauss said.

Steve froze, his mind going absolutely blank. He hadn’t had much of a job interview at Scoops much less Family Video. The supervisor had asked him how often he had been absent from school and Steve had lied through his teeth and assured him he’d never ditched once. There hadn’t been horrible questions like _this_ one.

“Um…” Steve felt his mouth go dry. He swallowed and wished he could just sink into the carpeted floor. 

_You’ll get the job, dummy. It’s your dad_.

Right, right.

“Well, sometimes I work _too_ hard!” Steve said, and laughed, the artificial and tinny sound of it making him feel a bit slimy. 

Mr. Strauss didn’t laugh. That was when Steve felt like he wanted to die.

He wasn’t going to get this job. He wondered if he’d ever had a shot.

But, for some goddamn reason, Mr. Strauss was going to make him suffer through the whole interview anyway.

“Tell me why should we hire you, Steve?” Mr. Strauss said. 

Steve knew there was probably a good answer to that question and he had no idea what it was. There was a smoother, more confident Steve somewhere, that junior year Steve who could get any girl and sweet talk teachers… That Steve had been left in some demogorgon’s petal mouth.

He thought it was possible that Steve had never been real at all. He had been born rich and pretty. Maybe that’s all he had ever been.

“I...because…” He cleared his throat. “I’m a hard worker.”

“Uh huh… No college then?”

The interview never got any better than that and a few times, it got worse.

When it was over, Mr. Strauss heaved a sigh as if _he_ had just been through the most mortifying experience of his life. But he shook Steve’s hand and smiled in that supposedly warm way that now struck Steve as most definitely artificial.

But before he let Steve’s hand go, he said, “Your dad set this interview up for you?”

He sounded confused.

“Um…” Steve thought he would consider himself lucky if he didn’t burst into tears at this point and only said, “Yeah. Yes.”

“Hmm. Well....we’ll get back to you.”

_Your dad set this up for you_.

Something about it struck Steve as he made his way out, hanging his head in shame, feeling as if all the secretaries sitting at their desks and busily typing and talking on the phone had seen the entire interview and all thought he was an idiot.

_Your dad set you up_.

It was impossible for him to think that his father had thought he had the slightest shot.

His father had set him up to fail. It was another one of his lessons. 

Steve made it out of the building, practically running down the hallways and feeling like he might lose it in the elevator as he loosened his tie and tried to catch his breath. He felt like the walls were closing in.

On the front steps of the glassy office building, Steve took off his tie and threw it on the ground before resting his hand on his hips and walking in a circle, huffing.

Men in nice suits walked by, glancing at him and frowning just like that Mr. Strauss. Women with blue eyeshadow and giant shoulder pads raised their eyebrows.

Steve left his nice navy blue silk tie on the front steps and trudged off down the street to his car; his shiny BMW that looked like it must be driven by some guy who knew just what he was doing, some guy who had his whole life worked out.

Some guy who wasn’t him.

Steve got in his car and caught his reflection in the rearview. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and unbuttoned the top few buttons, loosening his collar over his jacket. His hair was askew. He looked wild. His eyes were red.

“Idiot,” he muttered. “Goddamn idiot.”

To top it all off, now he had to go work at Family Video for four hours with _Keith_. Robin would be at the high school, getting ready for opening night of _The Glass Menagerie_. 

That would just be the icing on the shit cake, he thought, as he drove and listened to Supertramp on the radio. 

He hadn’t thought about food and by the time he got to work he was starving, his stomach angrily rumbling. But he’d already had to put his pedal to the metal to get back to Hawkins without stopping for lunch.

“Steven.” Keith glared at him and tapped his watch as he walked in through the front. 

Keith had taken him to calling Steve “Steven” because he’d heard Steve’s mother do it once when she came in.

It set his teeth on edge. 

“I’m on time,” Steve said.

“You’re one minute over.”

“Oh my _God_.”

“Also, your little friend is back _again_,” Keith said, nodding in the direction of the Drama section. 

Steve followed Keith’s gaze and sure enough, there was Billy Hargrove in the Drama aisle, holding a video but staring in Steve’s direction.

“Oh man,” Steve murmured.

Billy looked like he always did. He was wearing a his denim jacket over a black hooded sweatshirt, the hood pulled up over his head. He’d come back alive but...different, and with buzzed hair that he hid like it was the shame of his life. He didn’t talk much and he stood around in town and smoked and apparently sometimes he worked at the lumbar yard. And a whole _lot_ of the time he spent hanging around at Family Video, staring at people and being, according to Keith “creepy.” Steve thought Keith shoudn’t be allowed to call somebody else “creepy,” but it wasn’t as if it was normal to spend literal hours at the video store just loitering, rarely talking, and often not renting anything. But then...Steve knew what Billy had been through even if Keith didn’t. 

“He’s not doing anything,” Steve said quietly. Keith had loudly whined about Billy before. Steve didn’t really feel like hurting the guy’s feelings. “Just let him be, yeah? He’s been through a lot.”

“_You_ are responsible for him!” Keith said, pointing his finger in Steve’s face.

Steve slapped his hand away. “Me? Why me?”

“Because _you’re_ the one he’s always staring at, Steven!” Keith hissed, before marching away.

Steve thought that must not be true and if it was...he had no idea what to do with it. 

He glanced back in Billy’s direction and saw him quickly looked down at the video he was holding.

_Huh_.

Great, Steve thought. This on top of everything else. Though he found as his four hours passed like molasses, the thought of Billy Hargrove staring at him wasn’t terrible. It made him feel slightly better, though he couldn’t stop replaying that awful job interview in his head and thinking over and over that his father had done it to him deliberately. 

Steve didn’t kick Billy out and Billy just stuck around, seemingly devoted to examining every single video and never asking any questions or making conversation. Except that for somebody who was supposed to be “creepy,” Steve didn’t feel uncomfortable with the amount of staring he now noticed. If anything, it made him blush. A few times Billy went out to smoke. It was snowing out and Billy seemed cold, crossing his arms, all hunched up as he leaned against the wall outside and smoked. 

When he came inside, Steve looked down at his video log. He never wanted to look like he was staring at Billy even if Billy stared at him. It was different. Because people stared at Billy all the time. Steve couldn’t think of anyone who had changed so much so fast as Billy Hargrove after having “come back from the dead.” He had a limp now, and he was thinner and softer than he had been. 

He always looked a little too pale and gaunt. 

If he was trying to get Steve to feel sorry for him even given their history, he’d succeeded with flying colors.

Now that Keith had pointed out that it was Steve who Billy was staring at, Steve couldn’t help but notice that Billy didn’t leave until Steve’s shift was over. When Steve saw Billy go outside and light up again before beginning the tedious, slow limp through the snow to wherever he was going, Steve heaved a sigh.

He gave Billy rides sometimes when Billy happened to leave when he did. The Camaro was gone or still broken down. Or something. Steve wasn’t sure.

He just couldn’t quite stand the sight of Billy limping off like that, looking so much smaller as if the Mind Flayer had beaten him down even if it had lost in the end.

“Hey!” Steve ran after him, still in his green vest and without a coat. “Hargrove. You want a ride, man?”

Billy shrugged and nodded vaguely in the direction of Steve’s BMW. Which meant yes in Billy Speak, Steve had learned. 

“Where are you going?” Steve said, as they walked around the back of the store to the employee parking.

Billy looked vaguely panicked. He lived in a rented room on the fringe of town now.

“I-I...don’t know,” Billy mumbled. “I wasn’t gonna go home?”

Steve cocked his head and regarded Billy. He had been on his way to get some food; just burgers at the Dairy Queen before he went home and then he’d be off to see Robin’s play at the school. 

Billy looked absolutely terrified, and he froze there in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets. 

Maybe it was because Steve had just experienced one of those most awful days of his life and a sickening epiphany that he couldn’t even wrap his head around. But he suddenly felt a kinship with Billy. 

Steve didn’t feel like being alone tonight and he suspected Billy didn’t either. Normally, he’d have Robin to lean on, but he wasn’t going to spill his guts all over her any time soon now, not while she was enjoying her big night.

“I was just gonna go get some food?” Steve said. “Wanna come with?”

It was hard not to want to speak gently around Billy. He looked like he get spooked at the slightest thing now.

Billy nodded and he trudged through the snow to the car. When the radio blasted as Steve started it up, Billy jerked in his seat and then seemed embarrassed, rubbing his eyes. Steve turned the music down without being asked and pulled out before cranking up the heat because Billy was shivering.

They were quiet on the ride but it didn’t feel strange. It felt sort of comforting. 

“What do you want?” Steve said, when they got to Dairy Queen.

Billy started to take out his wallet and Steve waved him off. “I got it.”

“I can pay for my food,” Billy said tightly.

“Yeah, well my dad was a real asshole to me today,” Steve said, whipping out his own wallet. “Let’s let him pay for the food.”

Billy didn’t argue. 

They bought a mountain of food and ate in the car. Steve was on his second cheeseburger before he spoke, sitting back in his seat, staring out at the snow, as Fleetwood Mac softly played on the radio.

Steve washed a bite of burger down with his Coke and said, “He tells me I got a real chance. Come in for an interview, Stevie boy. Let’s see what you’ve got in you. We’ll give you a shot, he says. The whole thing was a goddamn set-up.”

Billy stared at him. He had that faint mustache coming in. His lips looks unnaturally red because of the chill. His brows were turned down in confusion as he looked at Steve.

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” Billy said.

Steve’s mind was racing, too riled up from obsessing about the whole awful experience all day, and now he told Billy about it; how his father had made him get a job at Scoops rather than at his company after watching him just _barely_ graduate, and how he’d dangled the company job in front of him like some kind of revenge, and how humiliating the interview had been. How he’d never had a chance.

When he was done, if anything, he felt worse.

“I must sound like a real asshole,” he murmured, frowning down at his fries. “I mean it’s my own fault. I’m just...I’m not good at anything. I can’t expect I’ll just be handed...” He rubbed his eyes and ignored the lump in his throat. It would just be the icing on the cake to bust out crying in front of Billy Hargrove who was all fucked up after getting possessed and worked in the lumber yard and lived in a lonely little room and spent hours at Family Video staring at Steve for no reason…

“I just thought I was this certain type of guy,” Steve said. “And it’s taken me forever to fully realize I’m not that guy at all. I mean I thought...I thought I used to be kind of a dick, right? And I think I’m a better person that I was. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know that I was never like...King Steve. I was never like a winner. I guess.” He sighed and looked out the windshield at the snow and said again, “Not good at anything.”

Billy snorted at that. “That’s such bullshit. You’re just not good at all that…” He waved his hand vaguely. “All that bullshit stuff. High school. Whatever your dad does… What does your dad do? What was the job interview for?”

“Mortgage firm,” Steve said.

“See, you didn’t even mention what kinda company it was,” Billy said. He smiled. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Billy Hargrove smile. Maybe once when he’d stopped by the pool while Billy was a lifeguard there. “It’s not like you cared.”

“But that was the whole…” He shook his head. It was hard to say what he meant. “The good job. Get a girl. Nice house in the cul-de-sac. Nice life… I always wanted that. I didn’t think it would be hard to get. Seemed so easy for my dad. But he’s...smarter than me, I’m just…”

“_Jesus_, Harrington,” Billy snapped. “Cut it out. You’re good at shit. You’re not good at this particular shit.”

“Like what, _everything_?”

“Like the stuff they teach you in school,” Billy said. “The stuff you’d have to do sitting in some fuckin’ swanky office with a secretary. The stuff your asshole dad thinks is important. All that stuff.”

Steve laughed at that even though he wasn’t feeling like it was funny at all. “Well, what’s even left, genius?”

He looked over at Billy who was staring out at the snow too. He’d pushed his hood back and his features were more distinctive with his buzzed hair. His nose was broad and handsome in profile. His mouth was, well, perfect. Steve found himself staring too much at Billy’s mouth. His eyelashes… He still had an earring. Now it was a simple silver stud. He wouldn’t look at Steve. He just stared. 

Steve felt his heart crack a little. Billy couldn’t think of anything Steve was good at, he thought. He’d just been bullshitting.

“You’re brave,” Billy said softly, cracking the silence between them in too. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve met. “You’re fuckin’....heroic. You’re good with people. You don’t see it. People come into the video store and they light up around you. You make people happy. You don’t notice because you’re hitting on girls and trying too hard. You take care of people all the time. You told Keith he was having a good hair day because you saw he was sad. _Keith_. He’s like the most annoying dude on the earth. You’re strong and you’re...kind. Which I didn’t think mattered. I thought it was like you said. Winners and losers. Kings and everybody else. But all that’s nothing. There’s just who you choose to be…” Billy swallowed. He was staring down at his thick hands, scarred up like so much of his body where he’d fought the Mind Flayer. “And you...make me want to be like you. You’re good at a lot of shit, Harrington. It’s just not shit that people think matters these days. Won’t get you that nice yuppie life. But you’re still fuckin’ good at it. Anyway… Probably why I love you.”

The last bit he said so softly, Steve almost missed it.

Steve just stared at him.

“I have to go to counseling twice a week,” Billy said, still resolutely not looking at Steve. “I’m supposed to be honest...with people I care about. Some shit. Anyway. The shrink’ll be real jazzed I just gave that little speech.”

His ears were bright red. His cheeks were rosy. 

Steve had a second epiphany that day. But this one was a nice one. He realized he’d been prepared for this moment and that was down to Robin. He wasn’t particularly shocked by Billy’s confession. Not like he would have been. 

Anyway, he could hardly pretend he’d _never_ thought of Billy that way. He’d just never dwelled on it.

Now...he wondered. 

“Oh,” Steve said. “I...didn’t know that.”

But everything Billy had said… It felt true. It gave him a nice, warm feeling. 

He _was_ good at stuff. Stuff that sounded worthwhile.

“Billy-”

“You don’t have to…” Billy sighed. “Say anything about it. Just thought you should know.”

He looked kind of adorable to Steve as he sat there, staring at his hands. He’d scarfed down his food already. His bottom lip stuck out a little.

Steve wondered what it tasted like.

“You want to see Robin’s play tonight?” Steve said.

“Hmm?” Billy looked at him in that cute, confused way again.

“Robin’s in the school play, it’s opening tonight.” Steve said, sticking a fry in his mouth. “_The Glass Menagerie_? She’s the lead. It’s at six. There’s kind of a thing after that I said I’d go to. Why don’t you come? I mean it’s a school play but I don’t know, like…”

He found himself flustered suddenly. 

Ugh.

“Okay,” Billy said. “Yeah.” Billy’s mouth did a funny little thing, his lips twisting as he appeared to be trying not to smile. 

“Cute,” Steve said. He didn’t realize he was saying it and Billy looked at him like a puppy looking at a bone. “Shit. Totally cute. Alright, let’s go.”

* * *

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered an hour later. 

They were watching the play, squeezed in between somebody’s bored little sister and somebody else’s proud mother in uncomfortable plastic chairs as Robin swanned around onstage, in the middle of a monologue. Steve couldn’t look away. The play was _so_ sad but Robin was…

“She’s really good,” Billy muttered.

“Fucking awesome,” Steve whispered, beaming with pride.

Steve had to think that Billy must really be in love with him to go to a school play for a girl he didn’t even know well. But now he seemed as compelled as Steve was.

Robin somebody who seemed to be good at everything. She shone like a star in the sky.

Toward the end of the play, Billy’s eyes looked watery.

“Ya know, I’m not the guy I thought I was either,” Billy whispered. “But...maybe that’s alright. Maybe it’s better.”

Steve saw Billy’s hand resting on his knee and, feeling very brave, he reached over and held it in his own. He heard Billy’s little intake of breath and saw his throat bob as he swallowed. 

They didn’t speak for the rest of the play.

They didn’t stop holding hands either.

“Shoot!” Steve said later, when Robin bowed for the second time. “I forgot flowers! I was going to bring flowers.” But he hopped to his feet and grinned at Robin on the stage who was getting, by far, the most applause for her portrayal as Laura. Her parents had luckily remembered flowers. Steve didn’t know them well. They seemed average and nice enough, much warmer anyway than his own parents. They didn’t know Robin was gay and Steve wondered about that sometimes. Was it worse to have parents who never seemed to care to have parents who cared and to be so scared that they might stop caring if they knew the truth about you?

“Woo!” Steve stood and hooted at the stage. “Woo! Yeah! Bravo!” Robin grinned at him and then looked a little surprised seeing Billy next to him in the audience. Other people stood up with him and then everyone was giving Robin a standing ovation and his heart swelled with pride for his friend, though he couldn’t help feeling the failure of that interview hitting him all the harder.

He thought of what Billy told him and looked at him; Billy Hargrove with his soft, buzzed hair, obediently clapping even as he looked horrifically uncomfortable to be in the middle of a crowd. 

There was an after party in the gym and Robin had begged him to attend. Billy had said he’d go along. 

But now he looked pleadingly at Steve and said in his ear over the applause and shouts of praise, “I gotta step outside.”

The actors filed offstage and the curtains closed.

“You alright?” Steve said, as people finally started to file out of the auditorium.

“Yeah yeah, just gotta get some air.”

Steve grabbed his hand again and squeezed it, looking at him steadily. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Billy said, and Steve saw the corner of his mouth turn up. “Just smokin’.”

It took Steve a while to even get to Robin, who was the most popular figure of the night, surrounded by doting teachers, parents, and students all telling her how great she was. Steve went to the gym with everyone else and grabbed a punch and hung back, watching his friend’s success, and it only stung a little bit. But the sting was dulled a little by the promise of Billy. It felt like they were both in the same place. Which was _weird_. 

It felt like he’d met a kind of a soulmate.

Steve drained his cup of punch and when he finally got his chance, he called Robin’s name, and she bolted forward to wrap him in a hug. “Holy shit! You were amazing!”

“Thank you! Thank you! Oh my God, I was so nervous!” She squeezed his shoulder and said, “I threw up before the play! But then I saw you in the audience. Ugh, I felt so much better.” She clutched her chest and grinned at him and Steve felt that lump in his throat again.

He heard Billy in his head telling him he was good at shit.

“Good,” he said, nodding. 

“Hey! How was your interview?” Robin said. She was still wearing her stage make-up and it made her eyes too big as she looked at him with intense interest.

He shook his head. “It sucked. It was a whole… Listen, forget it. It’s your night, right? Let’s party!”

“Okay!” She said laughing, but she still looked a little worried. “We’ll talk about it later?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, shrugging. He pointed vaguely toward the parking lot and said, “I just gotta uh check on… I brought Billy with me? I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “I saw that. What’s up with that? Did he finally tell you he has a crush on you?”

“Ah...uh…” Steve turned red and didn’t manage any words and Robin smacked his shoulder.

“Go check on Billy,” she said. “I’ll be right here. I’m sorry your interview sucked, dingus.”

Robin stuck out her bottom lip in a comical pout and Steve felt nothing but affection for her. He wished he’d found her earlier sometimes.

“Thanks,” he said. “And congrats! I’ll be right back!”

Steve ran outside and not seeing Billy in front of the auditorium or outside the gym, he swallowed, already worried. Billy had no car and he always looked cold. He hated to think that maybe Billy had freaked out and gone off alone into the snow to be sad by himself, with his hood pulled up over his pretty blue eyes. He ended up running down the all too familiar halls of lockers, now empty, his footsteps echoing on the linoleum.

“Billy! Hey! Billy!”

The door to the boy’s room popped open and Billy stuck his head out, a cigarette stuck between his lips. “In here, Harrington.”

“Thought you left,” Steve said, taking a drag when Billy offered him his cigarette.

“Told you I wouldn’t,” Billy said, pulling his jeans jacket tighter around him. “Just fucking freezing outside.”

It felt like old times. It felt almost like freshman year with Tommy; hanging out in the boys’ room and smoking. Except that he felt about twenty years older now instead of five. Billy leaned on the tile wall under the window and played with his Zippo, furtively looking at Steve.

The cigarette was about done. Steve took one more drag and dropped it in the sink before slinking up to Billy. “Did you really mean all that stuff you said before about me?”

“Yeah,” Billy said, smirking in a way that made him look just a little bit like his old self. “You’d make a shitty yuppie. It surprised me too.”  


“Not that part,” Steve said softly. “The other part?”

Billy shrugged one shoulder and swallowed as Steve crowded him up against the wall. “I’m just sayin’ I talk a lot about you in counseling, Harrington. I’ve been going twice a week for like six months. Gotta talk about somethin’.”

“Feel like you probably have a lot of shit to talk about,” Steve muttered, entranced by Billy’s mouth, the curve of his cheek, his broad nose…

“Yeah...but um...more fun to talk about you-”

Steve cut him off with a kiss. He hadn’t quite known he was going to do it but now his lips met Billy’s. It felt so reckless. Maybe unwise. What if he didn’t like it?

Except that he _did_ and much more than he expected to as Billy’s mouth parted and he clutched Steve’s biceps, pulling him closer. Billy’s kiss felt like coming home, curling up in front of a fire at Christmas… It was the first thing Steve thought of. It was one of his favorite feelings and he’d never known why. His parents weren’t the type to curl up in front of a fire at Christmas. But Billy tasted so familiar and so...welcoming. It wasn’t what he had expected at all. He wondered how he would have tasted before?

But that didn’t matter now, he thought.

They were different people now. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered. He broke the kiss with a soft smack of their lips and nuzzled Billy’s nose, sticking close, relishing the feel of Billy in his arms. “What if we figured out like...who we are? Like together? Might be better than alone.”

Billy looked dazed, his eyelids heavy. He kissed Steve’s cheek and murmured, “Yeah? That the plan?”

“I just thought I’d do you a favor,” Steve said, smiling against Billy’s mouth.

“You’re a real saint, pretty boy,” Billy said before kissing him again.


End file.
